


i know the sound of your heart

by fortunatedaughter



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortunatedaughter/pseuds/fortunatedaughter
Summary: Blip Sanders comes to realize fairly quickly that Ginny Baker and Mike Lawson finally deciding to fuck on every known surface to man is both a blessing and a curse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of those plot bunnies that burrowed in deep and wouldn't leave, something very frustrating when i was attempting to write the next chapter of short days, long nights & start this other idea i had, so! here we are!
> 
> un'beatd so apologies for any typos. pitch does not belong to me, i'm just merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement. title from the sound by the 1975.

Blip Sanders comes to realize fairly quickly that Ginny Baker and Mike Lawson finally deciding to fuck on every known surface to man is both a blessing and a curse. 

A blessing because it seems that that laser-focus Ginny and Mike usually have is seemingly amplified, which Blip didn’t think was possible. (A five game winning streak and he’s happy to be proven wrong to be honest. 

A curse, because when the two of them aren’t fucking and are actually fighting, it’s a goddamn nightmare to be around either of them.

Mike turns into a grump. More so than he usually is and Blip isn’t sure whether it’s because he’s stopped getting laid or because the one girl he’s cared about since Rachel isn't talking to him.

Ginny decides that defying every single call and decision from everyone, even people she you know, _respects_ , is going to be her new motto and life mission.

By the bottom of the ninth against the Rockies, Blip’s ready tase himself in the eye. He watches from between third and home, just slightly to the left and behind of Ginny, as she methodically chews on a piece of gum (a habit she seemingly picked up after Mike started coming in with her instead of him in the mornings, Blip notes.) and twirls the ball between her fingers. He watches as the two of them shift out of that laser focus, watches as Ginny throws a screwball that tops out in the high nineties.

The thing is – it’s a good pitch. The batter strikes out and when it’s a member of the Rockies, Blip’s always happy to watch that happen. But he’s not so much so ready to watch it when Mike signals for a fastball and Ginny throws caution to the wind with a snap of her gum, a smirk of her lips and a an eyebrow raise that practically screams, ‘Try me old man.’

Look, he gets it. Fighting with your significant other is hard. He remembers the early days with Evelyn when the two of them didn’t have a routine down about away games and when her constant extroverted, flirting personality would drive him up the wall and how knock down, drag out fights would end with the two of them stonily refusing to even acknowledge the other’s existence. 

He gets it. _He’s lived it._  

The shitty thing is Ginny and Mike aren’t two people married to each other’s asses and willing to sit the fuck down and _make it work._

The game ends 5 to 3 and it’s another win for their team, making it a six game winning streak. As he sits in the locker room after the fact, stripping off his jersey and watching as Mike ices his knees once again, Ginny stalking off to her section of the clubhouse, Blip is ready to call mutiny.

He kicks his leg out against Mike, relishing in the hiss of pain from the other man. Serves him right for playing nine innings like he was still 23 and you know, not fighting with his girlfriend. “You. Idiot.”

Mike glowers. “ _What_.”

Blip glares. “Don’t ‘what’ me, Lawson, not after the shit you pulled out there.”

“The shit I pulled? I wasn’t the one throwing off calls –“ He scoffs.

“Oh bite me.” Blip retorts, barely even blinking. “Ginny does that every damn day. It’s practically a sign of fucking affection between the two of you at this point.”

(Or a reminder that sometimes she can read the batters from the mound better than he can from behind the plate. Blip’s not gonna say that though. He doesn’t have a damn death wish.)

Mike’s glower notches itself down slightly, and dare Blip say it, affection begins to lurk behind his eyes. Jesus, Blip thinks, Lawson’s got it bad.

“What’s your damn point, Sanders?” His mouth curls.

Blip settles into his chair next to Mike, shifting to face him so he’s not giving the rest of the team front row seats to the Ginny and Mike show. (It was bad enough that the world is consistently running op-eds about the two of them, and if it isn’t TMZ gushing about how lil’ Ginny Baker managed to tame Mike Lawson’s lothario ass, it’s bullshit stories about how everyone saw this coming from a mile away and it’s a prime example as to why women shouldn’t be allowed in baseball.)

“Listen to me, alright? You two?” His head quirks in the direction of Ginny’s section, where anyone can hear the louder than usual Kanye West blaring from her headphones doubling as speakers right then. “It’s different now. It’s complicated. It’s messy. Because she’s no longer just your rookie or the girl you’re takin’ under your wing. She’s your _girlfriend_.” 

“Hey, no wait,” Mike protests, eyes flashing and his cheeks turning a particular shade of red. Any other situation and Blip would take full advantage of that situation to tease Mike endlessly – hard as nails Lawson, blushin’ over a pretty lil’ thing like Ginny? Prime shit talkin’ there. – but it’s not any other situation.

Blip silences him with a look.

“And because she’s your _girlfriend_ , that means she’s got the market on making your life a living hell. So get your head out of your damn ass and apologize to her before you really fuck it up, alright?”

Mike goes quiet, his head tipping and Blip thinks that’s the end of it. He turns back to his shit, packing it all up and wondering what Evelyn made for dinner tonight and what the odds are on convincing her to forego dinner and take the boys out instead. 

“She – she wants me to meet her brother.” Mike mutters, just loud enough for Blip to hear him.

“Met him.” Blip shrugs, casting a glance at Lawson. “Will’s a good kid.”

A bitter scoff fell from Mike’s lips and he began the methodical process of removing his icepacks. “Yeah. But _you_ weren’t sleeping with his kid sister.”

And there’s the root of the problem, Blip thinks. Because Mike, for all his womanizing ways and detached emotional self after Rachel cheated on his ass, is a dude who primarily cares. He cares so much it’s just damn stupid, and it’s no surprise he cares about how Baker’s family views him.

(Blip’s beginning to wonder if it’s more than just a girlfriend, fling of the month; let’s get out that sexual tension thing between them. He’s beginning to wonder if they’ve fallen down the rabbit hole in three years time he’s gonna be best man at their wedding or something. But that's impossible right? Mike's done the marriage thing and it imploded right in front of him. And Ginny... Blip's yet to get a read on her but he's fairly certain no 23 year old, up in the majors for the first time is thinking about marriage just yet. But hey - he was proven wrong before.)

“True.” Blip acknowledges, standing as he slings his bag over his shoulder. “But one look at the dopey ass look on your face that you get whenever Baker shows up and he’ll know.”

An hour later he’s in the underground corridors of Petco, Evelyn hanging off his arm when he sees it. 

Mike, head bent low as he talks to Ginny, a look in his eyes and Ginny, a wry smirk playing upon on her lips. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek before shaking her head and walking away.

The whole damn stadium hears her shout, “You’re lucky I like you, Lawson!” as she walks out to meet the crowd that still, after close to a year on the team, still hasn’t abated. 

Evelyn laughs and Blips nods to himself. Crisis avoided for now.


End file.
